Chapter 1:
Eragon sees the stone wall start to tilt, and it seems to fall in slow motion. "Arya!" He shouts, but through the sounds of battle she can't hear him. She is standing near the base of the wall, fighting numerous soldiers at once with ease. His mind surges to meet with hers, but her mind is completely sealed as a defense against enemy magicians. He searches for a crack, a fault in her defenses that will allow him in so he can warn her. By the time she recognizes the touch of his mind and he sends an image of the wall, teetering, leaning, falling, it is too late for her to do anything.
To stop the wall with magic would be a death sentence. The wall stretches for a league on either side, surrounding the city the Varden is trying to take control of. Saphira! His mind calls to his dragon, but Saphira's anguish at being too far away on the other side of the city to help washes over Eragon like a tidal wave.
As the wall crashes to the ground, Arya turns and mouths "Let me go" to Eragon. But it's too late. Eragon murmurs the spell, and the wall tilts in the other direction until it falls the other way. Eragon feels the energy drain out of his body, and his mind rushes into blackness. The last thing he sees is one of Galbatorix's soldiers standing above him, preparing to drive the tip of his sword into Eragon's abdomen. Then Eragon falls, his head hitting the ground with a resounding thud. Eragon drifts toward the void.
Eragon drifts in unconsciousness, a sea of blackness surrounding him. He faintly feels waves of energy being poured into his body, but he cannot feel his head or limbs. He drifts in the darkness, detached, unable to make himself wake up. Fuzzily, he feels the touch of something he recognizes against his mind, but just as he starts to remember what it is it fades. Minutes feel like days in the heavy blackness.
What feels like months later, he feels the touch against his mind again. It is less fuzzy this time, and from it words float across the blackness. He can sense they're being spoken but cannot hear them. The only word he can hear is his name, repeated occasionally throughout the tangle of inaudible words. And, still, a raging river of energy pours into his body.
Next comes images. A series of clear images float in front of him. He recognizes the people in the images, but cannot think of their names. Then an image of a dragon. Shimmering blue scales swarm his vision. Saphira! Eragon feels like he is being pulled to the surface of a deep lake, but still sees nothing but blackness. He holds on to the name, his dragon's name, as he continues to float through the blackness. But now, he is going somewhere.
Eragon recognizes the source of energy shifting. The touch against his mind has changed. More words float in front of him and he tries so hard to hear them. Arya. Just as Eragon says it, the touch recedes. The stream of energy does not.
After days of waiting in the unending blackness, Eragon once again feels the familiar touch of Saphira against his mind. He drifts closer to the surface. Saphira! He calls out, but cannot form any coherent phrases. Eragon! Keep fighting! Eragon senses more words being said, but cannot focus for any longer. He finds contentment in Saphira's presence, but still cannot pull himself back into consciousness.
And then he does. The first thing he feels is pain. Red-hot, blinding pain in his head and his stomach, and smaller aches in the rest of his body. Worse than when Durza split his back open. He can sense Saphira next to him. She engulfs his mind. Eragon, Arya is going to put you back to sleep. Rest well, little one.
Eragon realizes Arya is there just as she whispers "Slytha", and he fades into a fitful sleep. But this time he doesn't return to the darkness. Instead, he dreams. And the energy continues to pour into his body.
When Eragon wakes up, fully this time, he fights to open his eyes. When he does, he instantly feels nauseous. He ignores the pain in his head and tries to sit up, to look around him. Arya sits on a chair next to him, sleeping. He sees white bandages wrapped around his bare chest, and reaches up to feel another bandage wrapped around his head.
Where is Saphira? Eragon tries to reach out to her with his mind, but he feels like he is wading through quicksand when he tries to think. He suddenly realizes that if Arya is sitting next to him, his spell worked. He saved her. Then how is he alive? He spoke the words of the spell knowing they would kill him, but in the moment he came to the conclusion that if he died and she could live, then he would choose death thousands of times.
Eragon reaches out and tries to touch Arya's arm, but misjudges the distance and instead grabs her hand. She jolts upright, eyes wide as she sees him awake. Eragon suddenly feels the urge to explain why he did what he did, why he made his choice. He struggles to prop himself up and quickly says, "Arya, I-"
Arya lurches forward and presses her lips against his, her hands on his neck. The force of the kiss pushes Eragon back onto his pillow. His eyes widen as Arya kisses him, but he slowly laces his fingers through her hair and kisses her back. Arya pulls away first, gasping for breath, and leans her forehead against his with her eyes closed. "Don't ever do that to me again, Eragon," She says, then looks into Eragon's eyes.
Eragon stares, dumbfounded and at a complete loss of words. He thought he had trouble thinking before, but now he can do nothing but stare back at Arya. He is ecstatic, filled with happiness at the kiss. His feelings for Arya have been multiplied. But she was so adamant about Eragon forgetting his feelings for her, did she just kiss him out of fear of him dying?
Arya's cheeks tinge pink, something Eragon has never seen happen before. Eragon can't keep a smile off his face. He opens his mouth to say something when Angela and one of the elves Islanzadi sent walk into the tent. Arya gracefully rises from the bed and steps aside, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Only Eragon sees her blush darken.
Angela and the elf, Invidia, stop short when they see Eragon leaning back, awake, on his pillow. They don't see Eragon's breathlessness, or his slightly tousled hair, or Arya fighting to regain her composure.
Angela is the first to react, breaking the tension between Arya and Eragon and frozen surprise of herself and Invidia. "I'll fetch Saphira." Angela says, quickly sliding from the room.
Invidia starts inspecting Eragon, removing his bandages and saying a few words in the ancient language to completely heal the wound. She tries to quickly heal Eragon so he won't see the inch-deep cut across his abdomen. "We couldn't heal you while you were asleep. All of us were feeding a constant stream of energy to you so you wouldn't… die." Angela comes hurrying back into the room with Saphira following behind her. Little one!
Eragon tries to block his feelings about the kiss from Saphira, hoping she'll mistake his silence as confusion. As the elves and Angela get to work bustling about, saying spells in the ancient language or insisting that other methods besides magic would work to heal Eragon ("Poultices would work and won't use your energy! Half of you are already exhausted from keeping this ignorant Rider alive the last two weeks!"), all Eragon can do is try to wipe the idiotic smile from his face as he watches Arya standing in the corner, staring at the floor with twinkling eyes.